


The River's Gonna Run

by noplacespecial



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Backstory, Card Games, Community: bsg_pornbattle, F/M, Frottage, Het, Porn Battle, Pre-Series, Romance, bsg_pornbattle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-07
Updated: 2009-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noplacespecial/pseuds/noplacespecial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, I'm your ECO - you'd better trust me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The River's Gonna Run

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/profile)[**bsg_pornbattle**](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/); prompt was 'better not to know'. I may or may not have gotten _slightly_ off-track...

**Disclaimer:** Boomer, Helo, Starbuck, Apollo, Racetrack, Dee, Gaeta, Cally, and any other characters mentioned here are the property of the Sci-Fi (SyFy) Network, Ron Moore, and David Eick Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

~*~

"Room for one more?" Boomer asks. Helo looks up from his (entirely shitty) hand of cards and waves her over.

"'Course there is!" he exclaims. Until he remembers that all the chairs are currently being used. "You can sit with me," he amends. Starbuck snorts from across the triad table.

"Aw, it's your dream come true!" she says brightly. Helo glares and makes a rude gesture in her direction.

"I just want my girl to be able to play," he says to Boomer, who rolls her eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm never going to be your girl?" she asks. Still, when Helo pushes back from the table and spreads his legs wide across the chair, she perches delicately in the space between them. Delighted, he throws an arm around her waist.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Valerii." Boomer removes his hand as Cally collects all the cards from the last round and begins re-shuffling.

"So where's the chief tonight?" the young mechanic asks casually. Helo feels Boomer tense up against him.

"How should I know?" she snaps. Starbuck snickers again; Boomer and Tyrol aren't anywhere near as discrete as they'd like to believe they are.

"Sorry, nevermind," Cally backpedals. She finishes shuffling then deals the cards around the table, everyone grunting and re-arranging their hands. Boomer keeps twisting in Helo's lap trying to find a position in which she can see her cards but he can't.

"Oh relax, I'm not gonna cheat," he says exasperatedly. Boomer cranes her neck backwards.

"Yeah? What if I don't trust you?" she counters.

"Hey, I'm your ECO - you'd better trust me, or we're gonna have worse problems than your shitty landings." The rest of the table erupts in a chorus of laughter and winces. Boomer elbows him in the gut.

"I hate you," she says matter-of-factly. Helo grins.

"Right back atcha."

He's not doing all that bad this round - two more cards and he could _possibly_ have a straight, but his best strategic efforts are offset by the perfectly round little ass sitting in his lap. Gods, this was a _bad idea_ \- she's hard enough to ignore on a normal day, but now she's right there, right in front of him, smelling incredible and making contact all up and down his body, warmth seeping from her like the C-Deck power converter. Helo bites back a groan.

Boomer joins in the back-and-forth table banter, ganging up with Dee to make Apollo laugh so hard there are tears streaming out the corners of his eyes and he can barely breathe. Helo leans back, tries to put some distance between himself and his partner, and mostly stays quiet. Starbuck keeps eying him smugly, but he largely ignores her; after all, he doesn't call her out about the way she moons over Apollo, so it would be nice if she reciprocated the gesture.

Two rounds in, Boomer starts moving. She squirms and shuffles and every movement brings her ass in direct contact with Helo's groin. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making noise. But Boomer is oblivious to it all, concentrating instead on the hand currently in play. Helo clamps a hand down over her left thigh.

"Knock it off," he hisses in her ear.

"What? What are you talking about?" she murmurs, distracted by the cards in her hand. Though he did promise not to look, he now sees that she's just one away from having full colors - so _that's_ why she's so excited.

"Just...stop moving, okay?" Starbuck and Gaeta's friendly chat about a tactical maneuver earlier in the week soon morphs into an all-out screaming match. Boomer, anxious to get the ball rolling so that she can cash in her winnings (and finally get the upper hand on Starbuck) rocks back on her heels. Her back slams up against Helo's chest, and she shoots forward again, seeming to forget how close they were sitting.

"Sorry," she mumbles. Helo grits his teeth. She's sitting nearly on top of him now, and his excitement is impossible to miss. As if to prove his point, Boomer swings her head around to look back at him. "Wait, are you...?" She trails off, because the evidence is obvious and poking against her as they speak. Her eyes go as wide as the Raptor instrument gauges.

"Sorry," Helo offers weakly.

"You are so frakking ridiculous," Boomer hisses; the last thing she needs is Starbuck catching wind of their current predicament. "God, can't you keep it in your pants like everyone else?"

"I'm _trying_," Helo retorts. "Look, don't get all high and mighty just because you're a chick - it sucks to get aroused and have it on display for the entire world to see." Boomer shifts closer to the edge of the seat and away from him, nose in the air.

"Maybe some of us just have better control over our sex drives," she says primly, and Helo doesn't believe it for a second. He's seen that wild look in her eye as soon as they come down from a CAP; it burns even brighter when she starts arguing with the Chief and they conveniently disappear for an hour. Yeah, like he doesn't know what that's all about. Boomer is as much of a slave to her hormones as the rest of them, and tonight he's determined to prove it.

"Care to make a wager on that?" he challenges. He follows her forward, so that his body is pressed up against hers again. Boomer makes an annoyed face but keeps her head turned resolutely towards the triad table. "You're about to win this hand," Helo continues. "Whaddaya say, 50% of the pot? And if you win..."

"You cover all my maintenance shifts for the rest of the month."

Helo smirks. "Game on."

Gaeta and Starbuck are still bickering. Most of the others (Lee excluded) look like they've gotten tired of observing, but it's Starbuck's turn next so the game is still stalled. Dee and Racetrack are chatting amiable, Cally absentmindedly tipping her chair back to see how far she can go. No one is paying them any mind. Helo takes full advantage of this and presses forward even further. He slips his arm back around Boomer's waist to be sure that she doesn't try and pull away from him, but she's caught between his chest and the table and has nowhere to go without being completely conspicuous.

"So I guess, since you're so in control of your body, you won't mind if I tell you all of the things I've been thinking of doing to it, right?" Helo asks. He sees Boomer bite her lip. "Aw, come on now Sharon - you know I've always had a thing for you. All those endless CAP's, those long hours on double shifts? What do you think I've been thinking about?" As he speaks, he's sure to keep his mouth close to her neck. His breath blows under the hem of her tanks and his stubble brushes against the bare skin of her neck. With every inch of her molded to him, he feels the full force of her shudder.

"Mostly, I think about frakking you," he says conversationally. Boomer's teeth clench harder into the flesh of her lower lip. "I mean the Raptor cockpits are small, but it's not completely impossible, you know? You're so tiny anyway, I bet you would fit perfectly if I just leaned over in the middle of patrol and grabbed you by the waist, pulled you into my lap." His hand sneaks under her tanks to stroke her stomach. "Then there's the flight suits. That would be the tough part, getting out of those. But you've got such nimble little fingers, I'm sure you'd find a way. Do you even know how often I get distracted just watching you fly, watching you do maintenance? You can do anything with those strong little hands of yours, and I bet you would be just as handy with my cock between them instead of a wrench."

Despite Boomer's best efforts, his words are clearly having an effect on her. She squirms, but Helo's arm traps her in place. He slides it lower so that it lays across her lap like a seat belt, and grinds his erection shamelessly against her ass. She whimpers quietly. Helo would grin in triumph, but he's much too entranced by the feel of Boomer in his lap. He rubs rhythmically against her, and she seems quite content to keep up the pace. Helo resumes his seduction.

"I think about you at night, too. I know you've heard me get off - we've all heard each other. But I bet you didn't know that while I'm laying in the bunk above you, all I'm thinking about is climbing down to yours and throwing back the curtains, getting you all to myself in that tiny little rack. I know you sleep naked sometimes. I know when you do it, too, because you always get this sly little smile on your face as you're coming out of the head, like you know just how much it will turn me on. And those are the nights that I've got to bite my pillow so that I don't shout when I come, because thinking about climbing into bed with you, hot and naked and waiting for me? Gods, that gets me harder than anything." He's painfully hard now, each slow gyration of Boomer's rear causing friction between his throbbing erection and the rough fabric of his standard-issue briefs. He keeps stroking Boomer's flat belly, pushing and pulling her against him, and sees that the triad action has resumed. Dee is currently wagering an unopened bottle of fancy shampoo and after Racetrack and Cally it will be Boomer's turn. Before the bet reaches her, however, she finally deigns to turn his direction.

"I knew," she confesses. Helo furrows his brow; when he replays his last statement in his mind, his steady rhythm screeches to a halt and his eyes go wide. Boomer cranes her neck further back so that their eyes meet, and there's a sheepish smile crossing her lips. Entranced, Helo dips his fingers down into the waistband of her pants, inside her underwear, and between her inner lips. And sure enough, she's wet for him - game, set, and match.

"_Agathon. Valerii._" Both pilot and ECO whip their heads around to face Apollo at the same time, startled at the interruption. Their faces give away half of the story, but with their waists hidden below the table no one is the wiser as to the position of Helo's hand. "Your bet Valerii," Apollo reminds her. Helo does the honors, pushing forward three razors and two bars of chocolate.

"All in," Boomer says shakily. Helo wiggles his fingers with a smirk. Yes, he most certainly is.


End file.
